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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971857">Sawing Through Split Oak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse'>voleuse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Justified</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen lost before she loved, and she let charm make her choices.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arlo Givens/Helen Givens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sawing Through Split Oak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set pre-series.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin'<br/>
And the sun goes down about three in the day<br/>
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin'<br/>
And you spend your life diggin' coal from the bottom of your grave<br/>
You'll never leave Harlan alive</p>
</div>In those weeks, then months, after Frances passed, Helen found herself over at Arlo's house for breakfasts most days. She'd realized nobody was getting Raylan out of bed for school, and thought the least she could do for the cub is get him educated. Raylan would still come over to her place in the afternoons, and after a while he'd only go home for dinner if she promised to go with him.<p>After Raylan'd gone to bed--always an hour later than he was supposed to--Arlo would offer her tea and bourbon, and they would reminisce. In time, the reminiscing faded into telling tales, and then into whatever pudding-brained scheme Arlo had gotten himself into that particular week. She started to see what Frances had seen in the man--that spark in his eye that their family up in the holler'd never had, that house-bound ambition that made him strive for better without leaving anyone behind.</p><p>She started to spend her lunches there, as well, to tend to the garden like she'd promised Frances. It wasn't too long before she'd talked Arlo into cable TV and meals that had vegetables in them more than most. When she was around, Raylan would lose that empty look in his eye. </p><p>And Arlo knew how to dance, and he could be sweet if he wanted. But more than she was lonely once in a while, Helen wanted to keep their family together. She sure did know that Arlo was a shit of a father, but sons and fathers needed each other, whether they liked it or not. </p><p>Two days after their wedding, Helen sat Arlo down and told him if he ever, <em>ever</em> laid an unfriendly hand on her, well. She'd make sure to wake him up right before she shot him straight in the gut.</p><p>Wasn't till Raylan was about finished with high school that Helen realized their boy was sharp. Sharper than Arlo, and she thought it might be trouble soon enough. Much as she turned her eyes from Arlo's jobs, and who they were with, she didn't want Raylan mixed up in all that. Because, God love him, he'd do better at it than Arlo ever could.</p><p>It should have broken her heart, the day she sent Raylan away, but instead it just filled her with hope.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>She ran into Ava at the market sometimes. She knew the look on Ava's face--shadows and scabs, just like Frances used to be.<p>On that particular day, Ava's shoulders were hunched, like she was favoring one arm. Make-up was caked too thick on the left side of her jaw. Her basket was filled with fixings for supper, as well as ice and some bandages. When she met Helen's eyes, she smiled, but shakily. </p><p>"Ava, hon," she said, aiming for warmth with her smile. "Things goin' all right with you?"</p><p>Ava stared into Helen's eyes for what felt like an hour. Finally, she started to talk. "Mrs. Givens," she started, then cleared her throat a couple of times to get the croak out of her voice. "Your husband, he's been friends with Bowman's father for a long while. Did he ever--"</p><p>"Call me Helen," she interrupted. She didn't quite want to hear. "And I told Arlo, long ago, that anything he did to me, I'd return it twice as hard."</p><p>Ava ducked her head. "That's not really something folks could say to the Crowders, I think."</p><p>"Don't think I don't know your own folks," Helen said, raising her eyebrows. "There wasn't one Randolph I met who'd let anyone get over them, at least not for very long." Ava laughed, and Helen continued. "You ever hear tell of Zachariah and that goat?"</p><p>"You should have heard the stories they all told each other on Sundays." Her smile wasn't wide, but it seemed to be a real one. "They'd make your tail curl if you had one." She shook her head, then looked away. "I'd best be gettin' home. Helen." She nudged her basket a little before heading to the cashier.</p><p>Helen caught Ava by the arm before she walked past. "If you ever need," Helen clutched her on the shoulder, "whatever you need--"</p><p>"I will," Ava whispered, in answer to the question Helen hadn't wanted to ask.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>She learned a while back there wasn't a way to make Arlo and Raylan reconcile. There was too much that'd passed between them, and they were both too stubborn to say it so.<p>Arlo would never admit it, but she knew he missed him. Knew Raylan missed Arlo, too, or something close to it. She knew because in the once in a while that Raylan called her, there was a space of silence where he didn't ask about his father. </p><p>One afternoon, she wandered into the living room as if she just happened to it. "Raylan called the other day," she said. "Seemed real happy."</p><p>"Yeah?" Arlo didn't look away from the TV, but he took a long pull from his beer.</p><p>"He got married," she said. "A little while ago. Wife's named Winona."</p><p>Arlo set his beer down. "That so." She watched his fingers drum against the bottle. </p><p>"Mm." Helen leaned over the back of the couch, put her palm on the back of his neck. "They're sending a picture."</p><p>The TV was turned down too low to make out the words, but some cereal commercial blared to cover the silence. "That'll be nice," Arlo said finally. "Real nice."</p><p>She came around to the front of the sofa and sat alongside him, like they used to do when they first got hitched. She held his hand and she knew he missed Raylan, because he let her.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>The thing Helen would never have believed if you told her, all those years ago: She wouldn't regret anything she'd chosen. Not a goddamn thing.
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title adapted from "<a href="http://www.jeff-worley.com/jeff/samples/sample-a-little-luck/">What I Believe</a>" by Jeff Worley. Epigraph taken from "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cco-pCb0klU">You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive</a>," performed by Darrell Scott.</p><p>Thanks to everyone for the kind words on the little fics I've been writing! I<br/>spent a few months watching <em>Justified</em> all the way through, and I couldn't quite detach myself from the characters yet.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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